Strathairn nodded. “Retired. But two heads are better than one. You’re investigating Haighton’s death, are you not? He was a friend of mine. I’d like very much to get my hands on his killer. But first, we must make sure your wife is safe. Could someone have taken her?”
Grant raked his hands through his hair. “That’s just it. I don’t know. I suspect Ambrose Fury of trickery, but why he would take Mercy?” He shrugged, not wanting to talk. He needed to act.
“I saw the man tonight.”
Grant stared at him. He swung away to enter the building. “Let’s see if he’s still here.”
He was striding toward the front door when a waiter hurried out. “Lord Northcliffe. I heard you’re looking for Lady Mercy, sir.”
Grant grabbed his arm. “Tell me what you know, man!”
“I saw the lady in the street with two gentlemen.”
“Here?”
“No. Around the corner. The upper windows look down on…”
Cursing, Grant pulled the hapless man along. “What two men? How long ago?”
The waiter stumbled over his feet. “Fifteen minutes or so,” he gasped. “Didn’t think anything of it until I heard you was looking for the lady. I recognized one of them. Sir Ewan Snowdon.”
Was Mercy pursuing her business venture? Grant wanted desperately to believe it, but it didn’t make sense. She would never leave the building voluntarily. “Describe the other man.”
“He was solidly built with dark-hair.”
“That could be Fury,” Grant said to Strathairn through his teeth.Mercy! His beloved!He could not live without her.He wouldn’t!
They turned the corner. The street before them lay empty.
Chapter Twenty-One
WHAT CAUSED THAT rocking? Mercy’s head and chin ached abominably. Where was she? She opened her eyes. In the dim glow of carriage lights she saw she was not alone and quickly shut her eyes again.
“You are a rash fool, Ambrose,” said Sir Ewan’s voice. “We should have talked to the lass first. She may not have heard anything.” She did not know this Ambrose person. What did he want with her? She tried to quell her shivering.
“She heard. Why dart back behind the curtain? Her husband has been poking around at my estate asking questions.”
“I don’t see that as anything to concern us. Northcliffe has taken upon himself to investigate the rail attacks. He’s just one of the idle young lords kicking about until they inherit. Probably likes a gamble on the stock market. They’d have no reason to suspect you. Unless Lady Haighton read your sister’s letters to her husband before you stole them back. But she mentioned nothing about it to me.” He lowered his voice and she had to strain to hear him. “What are we going to do with this young lady? She can put the finger on us now.”
“We’ll see to her when we reach my estate. There’s a marshy bog where she can disappear forever.”
Mercy wished she could cover her ears. She wanted to scream. Her heart thudded so loudly she felt sure they could hear it.
“Bloody murderous fool! I don’t approve of killing. I won’t hang for your deeds. Why did you murder Haighton?”
“Be careful what you say, or you’ll disappear along with this chit.”
“She is no chit; she’s a viscountess—an earl’s daughter! You think they won’t investigate? They’ll leave no stone unturned.”
“The authorities can’t know I was behind it. I was in York when I had Scullen shot in London. Dead men don’t tell secrets.”
She struggled for breath. With the windows closed, the air was stuffy, smelling of pomade and cheroots, and horse.
“Too tricky by half.”
Mercy felt a large hand on her knee. Shocked, she fought to stay still and control her breathing.
“I liked this young lady. She was interesting. Smart,” Sir Ewan said.
